


Getting the Hell Out of Dodge

by alley_oops, jennandanica



Series: What Remains [8]
Category: Actor RPF, Australian Actor RPF, Banshee (TV) RPF, British Actor RPF, The Walking Dead (TV), True Blood RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-23 15:49:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12510820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alley_oops/pseuds/alley_oops, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica
Summary: After the zombie apocalypse, survivors roam the UK, trying to find their families, other survivors they can trust and somewhere safe where they can actually allow hope for a future to flourish. In this chapter, after a few days for Alex to heal, the group heads north."Your wound was really deep," Ryan explains. "I had to stitch up your muscle too, but I didn't have suture silk so I have to go in and pull those stitches now that's it healing up. After that, I'll sew you up again."He sounds so reasonable. Alex decides it just makes the whole conversation that much more insane. "Yeah, awesome. Remind me, where'd you get your medical degree? Was it the Discovery Channel?" he asks, sneering a bit to cover for how much the prospect of more cutting dreads him. But the way Ryan drops his gaze, his cheeks coloring... "Shit," Alex whispers, and stares at Ryan incredulously. "You were a fucking doctor all this time and you didn't think to mention it?"





	Getting the Hell Out of Dodge

**Author's Note:**

> For anyone familiar with the [RPG Citadel](http://citadel.dreamwidth.org/read), this is NOT backstory for any of our pups in the game. Also, we apologize in advance for any discrepancies regarding weapons and UK geography and slang/terminology. We did our best but I'm sure we've mucked up something.

They've stayed an extra two days past what they thought they would but Ryan's assured Antony it'll make a huge difference in Alex's recovery. The pack out front, the whole mess in front of the tunnel, has only worsened but they've been taking turns checking their route out hasn't been compromised. So far, so good. Antony doesn't want to push their luck though which is why they're leaving this morning, Keira watching the front, Jess watching the back alley, while the guys move as much food and other supplies as they can into the minivan.

Clive packs another carton full of cans into the cargo hold, and turns to tell Antony, "Jess wants to know if she should go try and siphon petrol from other cars."

"I already checked the ones close by," Antony says, placing some blankets and sleeping bags on top of the cans. "Tell her thanks though. If she's good at it, she can try the next place we stop."

"I really couldn't speak to whether she's good at it," Clive replies. Adds, "But I'll tell her what you said." He can't commit Jess to speak to Antony directly; hell, the guy intimidates him too. But he doesn't mind playing messenger.

"I think we're just about loaded to the brink," Ryan says, coming over to make one last check of the first-aid kit he assembled. "These things aren't really designed to hold eight full-grown adults, in addition to everything else we piled in here. At a certain point it's going to compromise our speed."

"Hopefully by then we'll have found an alternative," Sam says, joining them. "Eaten some of the food, found a place, found a bus or a camper..." He grins, amused to find himself the optimist of the group.

Ryan quirks an eyebrow at his lover. That grin pulls an answering smile onto his own face. Yep, he's definitely in the infatuation stage when it comes to Sam. It hits him that a few people are watching him in bemusement, and he blushes and looks away. 

But he still grins.

"Hey Ryan, can you check whether that seat can be moved back and all?" Alex asks, pointing to the middle bench in the van. "I can't get into the back but if we shift that a little then I can sit in the middle."

"Already checked, mate," Ryan tells him with a sunny smile. "Yeah, I'll go nudge it back."

* * *

Everyone piled into the minivan, Antony taking the first shift driving, he slowly turns over the engine, breath held as he waits for it to catch and catch it does. Thank god. He heads straight for the street in front of the town hall, taking the back roads they'd planned on and scouted, ploughing down a few walkers who get in their way. As they pass the main street, a whole crowd turns and once again, he's so fucking grateful the dead have no speed at all. Just numbers. But they're all on one path and it's easy enough to avoid them as they make their way out of town.

Clive presses his face to the back window and watches with his heart racing. Only once the city and its occupants have receded from sight does he turn back around in his seat, his shoulders relaxing. "Someone remind me," he says quietly, "are we headed to any particular place, or just _away_ and sort of northerly?"

"We're going to try and stay along the coast until we reach North Berwick. From there we'll take a boat of some sort to St. Andrews where there's an army base. That'll let us bypass Edinburgh," Sam says, willing to tackle the question while Antony keeps his focus on the road.

"And after that, we keep going up the coast until we reach Aberdeen where we grab another boat, although we'll likely have to touch land again," Keira explains, leaning over Clive's shoulder. "In order to be able to make the whole trip."

Clive nods, and again it's silent but for the sound of the tires crunching over gravel, and sometimes bodies.

"Hey," Ryan says softly, tapping Alex on the shoulder, "when we get to... wherever we get to, I need to open your leg back up like we talked about."

The look he gets in response suggests that Ryan's brain has already been eaten clear through, and is now missing. "Like hell," Alex says, wondering why his mate would even find the joke funny. "What the fuck would you do that for?"

 _Oops_. "Oh. Shit," Ryan says, and at least has the courtesy to look chagrined. "Did I forget to talk to you about that?" He looks at Luke. "I guess you didn't tell him, either."

"I told him," Luke says, suddenly worried, "but I think he might still have been on the stronger painkillers."

"Motherfucker," Alex grumbles, scrubbing his hand over his eyes. Then he glares at Ryan. "Seriously, what the fuck?"

"Your wound was really deep," Ryan explains. "I had to stitch up your muscle too, but I didn't have suture silk so I have to go in and pull those stitches now that's it healing up. After that, I'll sew you up again."

He sounds so reasonable. Alex decides it just makes the whole conversation that much more insane. "Yeah, awesome. Remind me, where'd you get your medical degree? Was it the Discovery Channel?" he asks, sneering a bit to cover for how much the prospect of more cutting dreads him. But the way Ryan drops his gaze, his cheeks coloring... "Shit," Alex whispers, and stares at Ryan incredulously. "You were a fucking doctor all this time and you didn't think to mention it?"

Ryan blows out a breath in resignation. He'd been so surprised by Sam's calm acceptance when he'd figured out the truth. Maybe, _maybe_ Alex can shift to that perspective as well. But, no: this is exactly why he'd concealed his knowledge in the first place. Because he was afraid that Alex would respond in just this way.

"What about Billy? Rhonna?" Alex asks, thinking of comrades from groups they ran with together. "Did you tell them?"

"No," Ryan says, looking down at his empty hands. "I couldn't fucking do anything for them and you know it. But I could do something for you."

Alex blinks through a sheen of tears, and abruptly returns his attention to the passing countryside. 

Luke slips his hand into Alex's and gives it a squeeze. "How long will we need for him to recover?" he asks Ryan. "And is there any danger in you cutting him back open?"

"Infection, that's always something. But other than that? No," Ryan replies. "All the surgical repairs are finished. This will be straightforward and pretty simple." Thank heaven for that.

"And he'll be good to go right away, or do we need a couple days somewhere?" Luke asks, pressing for a definitive answer. "How much recovery time will he need?"

"He'll need to take another day," Ryan answers, meeting Luke's eyes. Trusting that he has an ally in the business of herding Alex. "Before he tries to get back up to speed."

"I hate it when you two talk over me like I'm not here," Alex mutters, but makes no stronger protest.

"We're taking care of you," Luke says simply. "Because the group needs you," he emphasizes.

Antony gets the jist of what's going on behind him. Hears the last and Luke's right. It's the reason they didn't leave the house until now. "Look sharp, people," he says, all of sudden, the minivan slowing. "We've got blockage up ahead."

Both Sam and Keira pull out their guns. They know the drill. "Window down," Keira tells Clive.

Clive nods and tries to push the window open. When it sticks – closed for how long? – he gets to his feet the best he can and manages to shove it open. Of course he bangs his head against the roof in the process. "I, um. I'm not really made for backseats," he says to Keira, his tone self-apologetic. "Should we switch seats so that you don't have to try and shoot around me? 

Keira grins. "Sure," she says, although that goes about as well as expected and she ends up mostly in Clive's lap before sliding into the seat he's just vacated. "Sorry," she whispers, blushing straight down to her toes. God.

He shrugs off her apology with a faint smile. Yeah, he definitely needs to stop thinking about how good it felt to have her pressed up against him like that, about how he could've just put his arms around her and held her close and for a moment perhaps forgotten what a fucking mess everything else is. Yeah, he needs to stop thinking about that _right now_. He reaches past Jess and manages to jimmy her window open as well. "Check in with me?" he asks her softly.

Jess already has her handgun at the ready, tension coursing through her veins and stiffening her body until she could nearly pass for petrified wood. "I'm okay," she whispers, meeting his eyes for an instant. 

Antony weaves the van in and around the stranded vehicles, his gaze flickering back and forth constantly, watching for the slightest movement. "You good?" he asks Sam.

"So far," Sam nods, gritting his teeth when a walker pops up from inside one of the cars, clawing at the already bloodied window. "Fuck."

Ryan tenses at that, but takes his cue from Sam that it's not an imminent threat and goes back to watching his sector. "Two o'clock," he tells Antony, snapping his rifle to aim, "there's something under that red truck." 

"Walkers," Antony says, just as the thing separates into two, both of which manage to free themselves and stumble towards the van. "You got them?"

Keira takes out one with a nice clean head shot and crows happily.

"Damn, girl," Ryan mutters admiringly, likewise aiming and firing. Cringing when his shot hits the second walker's face, exploding her head in a grisly mess. He used to _save_ lives, damn it.

Clive winces, looking away for a second involuntarily. Then he offers, "Hey, at least we're outside the splatter zone."

Keira laughs. "I'd like our clean clothes to stay clean as long as possible."

Sam shakes his head. "You've been spoiled," he tells her, glancing over his shoulder and winking at Ryan. "Showers, clean clothes. I bet most people haven't had that."

"I know they haven't," Keira retorts, tempted to stick her tongue out at him but for Clive sitting beside her. "But it's not like they don't appreciate when they get it, so I can be happy about it too."

It's just a silly instant, but that wink from Sam warms Ryan through and seems to set his blood to tingling. He can't help but grin back, and has to remind himself to pay attention to the passing wreckage.

Alex sees it too, and he's tempted to call Ryan out on his bullshit – _Right now, really? Could you leave him if you had to?_ – but he decides to let it pass. They all need whatever love they can get. He slips his hand over Luke's, linking their fingers together for a moment, before getting out of his way once more.

"Almost there," Antony murmurs, the open road on the other side of the blockage coming into view. If they were going to be ambushed, it probably would've happened already and from the look of most of these vehicles, they've been here since the start, but he stays aware, tense, scanning constantly. Never let your guard down.

Jess is barely aware of how she is chewing on her bottom lip. She's focused, alert, and fighting to keep from surrendering to the current of fear which never flows away anymore.

They pass several more walkers but they're too far away to pose any threat and ammo is precious. Luke can't help wondering what happens to them eventually, when they can't get any food, when they've eaten everything in sight. How long can they keep going before everything shuts down?

"And we're through," Antony says quietly, as much to himself as the rest of the van, the road once again fairly open as they make their way along the coast, the view to the right of them stunningly beautiful. If you didn't look left, you'd never even guessed the world had changed.

The sudden lessening of tension in the air is nearly palpable. It's not a complete disappearance – it never can be, anymore. But nonetheless Clive breathes a small sigh, his eyes shutting in relief for a brief moment.

"I'm trained as a massage therapist," Jess says quietly, still staring out the window.

Clive looks at her quizzically, wondering if that announcement was the complete non sequitur it seemed to be.

Feeling the weight of his curious eyes on her, Jess glances up at his face. "I mean, I can do that. I'm good at that. Maybe," she shrugs a little, "maybe that could be what I bring to the group."

From the other side of the van, Keira beams at her. "Massages?" She groans, just imagining how that would feel, the tension in her frame something she's conscious of almost all the time. "Oh my god, I would give anything for a massage."

"Who's giving massages?" Sam asks, glancing into the back again. Anything for an excuse to look at Ryan.

Ryan grins at his lover but shakes his head. "Not me," he says, and glances back over his shoulder. "Jess?"

She blanches and looks down at her lap, trying to conceal the abrupt anxiety in her wide eyes. She hadn't thought, hadn't expected... But... "I could... Yes. I can do that. If it would help anyone." Hell, it'll probably be good for her to actually make physical contact with someone else. The hugs Keira gave her were a total shock to her system, reminding her of the godforsaken _need_ to simply touch and be touched. Without perpetually anticipating agony.

"I think it would help all of us," Luke says, smiling back at her. Sensing just how uncomfortable she is with the idea. "All of us are carrying so much tension in our shoulders, it'd probably take hours to work the knots out."

Jess nods, beginning to gain a measure of confidence in the idea. "I can do that. I can help," she says again. It occurs to her suddenly that Luke's smile is almost ridiculously appealing, all bright eyes and genuine-seeming. And the realization is bizarre when it hits her that it's been months since she's genuinely _seen_ anyone.

Clive smiles faintly, watching her. Maybe... maybe Jess might still have a soul glimmering beneath the brittleness. He prays it's so.

* * *

"Anyone for a bathroom break?" Antony says when he spies an actual gas station up ahead. The area's open, seemingly clear of walkers and there might be some food or gas still around.

"Damn right," Sam nods, stretching in his seat. They haven't been driving that long but when you're not used to being cooped in a car anymore...

Of necessity, Clive waits until Keira exits the van before he clambers out of the middle seat. He's a little ashamed to find himself checking out her ass, and quickly jerks his gaze away. Hoping that no one else saw that, damn.

Alex clasps his hands together behind himself and stretches out his back. Massages? Yeah, they definitely all need one. "I'll stay here with the van until someone can cover for me," he says quietly, surveying the site with its open views in nearly every direction. It looks clear, yes, but it doesn't seem to matter – his skin perpetually crawls these days, constant paranoia that someone is watching them without their knowledge.

"I'll be right back," Luke assures him with a quick kiss, taking a moment to do a few stretches outside the van.

Keira says, "I want an actual washroom. Want to check it out with me?" Her grin aimed at Jess. "It'll be like being back in high school."

"Oooh, are we going to talk boys?" Jess asks, falling into step with her. She blinks in surprise an instant later when she realizes she actually just kind of made a joke.

Keira laughs. "Maybe." She grins at Jess, waiting until they're around the corner and out of sight of their group. "Who do you think's the best looking of our guys?" she asks, knocking on the women's bathroom door.

Keeping her distance, Jess waits to find out if the door knocks back... When it doesn't, she relaxes a mite. "The best looking? Um. I hadn't really thought about it." Of course she hasn't. It's just so... so... _normal_. "Luke, I think. He smiled at me earlier and I just," she waves her hand vaguely, "I just sort of melted." She slants a grin at Keira. "What about you?"

"Well, there's not an ugly one in the bunch," Keira says with a laugh, throwing open the door, her knife in hand just in case. But no, it's clear and there are two stalls. Perfect. "Sam looks like Cal, so I think he's hot but that's just weird. Your Clive though..." She grins at Jess. "You guys aren't...?" She's pretty sure they're not and that Jess doesn't have any feelings towards him that way but if she did, that would totally put him off limits. Not that he's really in limits now.

"We– Clive and me? Really? Oh hell no." Jess shakes her head, wondering why the heck such an idea would even occur to Keira in the first place; but, of course. Of course she'd wonder. "No, Clive... I mean he really is like a big brother to me. He's very protective. But that's not just me, he was like that with all the women in our group, before we lost them." Her lips tighten in memory, but she lets it get pushed aside by thoughts of whether she actually dares touch skin to the toilet in front of her. "He hasn't talked about it much, but I think he had a few sisters." 

The loss of the women and the mention of sisters, probably lost as well, puts a huge damper on Keira's jesting. "He seems like a really nice guy," she says, a little more quietly, squatting over the toilet, thankful for the roll of toilet paper still in its holder. Trying not to think of Cal.

"Yeah, he's amazing. We're lucky he's on our side," Jess replies, finishing up and then experimentally trying the taps at the sink, surprised when almost-clear water rushes from the faucet. "He really is a lousy fucking shot. I was teasing him about it once. Joking that if there's only one gun, then I get it. And if we have a second, he can carry it, but just for show," she adds, letting herself babble on because at least it's a _happy_ memory. "But he's some kind of kickboxer – muay thai, he told me, but I really don't know what that is. But I've seen him..." Her voice trails off, and she rubs her hands dry against her jeans.

"He's good?" Keira asks, taking her turn at the sink.

"He's good," Jess agrees, because surely Keira doesn't need grisly details. "What about you?" she asks brightly. "Were you always such a badass, even before?"

Keira turns wide eyes on Jess. "Me?" She shakes her head. "I was the furthest thing from a badass," she says. "This is all Antony's doing. Without him and Sam, there's no way I'd even be alive now. Or maybe I would be," she relents, "but I can't imagine what that would look like." And she doesn't want to.

Jess nods but doesn't comment. She finds herself automatically scanning the dirty washroom for supplies, and considers their limited options. "What do you think, should we take the toilet paper? Or should we leave it, hoping someone else might come through?"

"Let's leave it," Keira says after a moment. Weirdly enough, it seems like the civilized thing to do and they could all use more civility in the world these days. "Let's go check out the store."

When they emerge, Clive is standing watch not far away. "I think they're all inside right now," he says gesturing towards the small building. "Antony filled up the tank."

"Okay." Jess gives him a little smile. "I'm going shopping, do you want anything?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm gonna need a grande decaf caramel macchiato with whipped cream on top and two shots of bourbon. And for god's sake, don't forget the sprinkles this time," he answers, keeping his expression totally straight.

"Yeah, I'll get right on that," she says with a soft giggle. She holds the door open for Keira, gun in hand, back on alert. 

"There were two dead in the back room," Ryan updates the women. "They got all excited, but they're done now. And someone had been living back there for a bit. We can't tell for sure if it was the same guy. But we're clear now." He takes up position facing the road, scanning in the other direction.

"Thanks." Looking around, Jess can see that the tiny shop was looted and trashed long ago. She hopes their guys at least found something useful.

Antony's got a small cache of stuff he's collected and he comes back to the front with his hands full. "Ready?"

"Yeah..." Alex does a last scan of the shelves, trying to make sure he hasn't overlooked anything they could really use. There really wasn't much to start with, but a little is always better than nothing.

Jess gets a shopping sack from beneath the cash register, and holds it open for Antony. "Let me help."

"Thanks." Antony puts the small container of pool shock in first followed by the duct tape, safety goggles, heavy-duty rope and two magnifying glasses.

Baffled by some of his choices, Jess looks at Antony curiously. "Swimming pool?"

Antony chuckles. "It's calcium hypochlorite. You can use it to disinfect water, _really_ carefully."

"Ah." The corner of her mouth quirks. "Well, I guess it's good someone knows chemistry. You might be the go-to teacher in the new world." Glancing around, she pulls a half-empty tube of scented lotion from a shelf behind the cash register. She frowns down at it, then asks Antony, "Do you have any oil? Like, baby oil, or grapeseed...? Even Vaseline would be okay."

"I think the Vaseline might be spoken for," Antony says with a small smile, ducking his head a little. "But I saw lots of stuff in the pharmacies the other day. I'm sure I can get you some lotion or baby oil."

Distracted by Ryan – who seems to be overcome by a sudden coughing fit – Jess looks over at him in concern. But it seems he'll live. She returns her attention to Antony, although she can't figure out what is amusing him. Figuring her own sense of humor is barely intact at this point, she shrugs it off. "Oil would be great, if you could," she murmurs, then adds, "I didn't know you could smile." In a second she flushes hot and takes a step back. "I– Sorry, I just meant it's nice," she manages to stammer out, and flees to the van. 

Alex's own amusement might get the best of him at this point, after that little exchange. He shoots Antony a crooked grin. "I think maybe you make her nervous," he teases. Fuck knows that they all do, but this is better than the usual nervousness. With a chuckle, he ruffles Ryan's hair and limps back outside.

Back on the road, it's getting darker, the days growing shorter and shorter this time of year. "We'd better find some place to stop soon," Antony tells Sam.

Sam nods. It's a rule they've lived by. Better to stop early than get stuck in the dark. "Who's got the map?" he asks over his shoulder.

"Here," Ryan answers, leaning into the break between the two front seats to hand it over. He lingers, checking out the oncoming road. "Are we searching for anything in particular, in terms of buildings?" he asks. "Or are you thinking we'll find somewhere low-traffic, then get out and look?"

"If we can find something set back off this main road, I'd be happy," Antony says. "We haven't seen too much activity on it which is good and I don't want to chance going deeper into any of the towns." He slows down slightly, easing past an abandoned truck, his attention on it for a moment before he returns to the conversation. "House, two stories, with a driveway and garage or room to pull around back."

Ryan nods acknowledgment of this, and glances back at Alex over his shoulder to see if he copies. Yep, message received, and he returns his gaze to the road. "The street map says the mob of houses is thicker just to the west," he murmurs, matching up road signs with the map. "Maybe make a right and see where that takes us?" He'd prefer something more along the lines of a ranch or a farm, himself. Something more spread out. But then, he doesn't know this country like... "Christ, we're all three of us from the wrong part of town," he realizes, and scrubs a hand over his face. A Kiwi and two Aussies, what do they know about UK geography? "Luke?" he asks, turning back. "Keira, Clive? Anyone know this area?"

"We're just looking for something for the night," Antony clarifies. "Alex's leg'll have to wait. I want us to get a little further north tomorrow before we look at stopping for longer."

Luke volunteers, "I can take a look. I'm pretty familiar with it." He takes the map from Ryan. "We're about here now," he says, leaning over the front seat to show Antony and Sam. "We can stop anywhere. Tomorrow we can try and make it to Coldingham, find something around there for a few days, and that puts us really close to North Berwick where you wanted to get a boat. Or we can cross first but I don't know what we'll find on the other side and Edinburgh's just to the west."

"Probably want to avoid Edinburgh proper if we can," Ryan murmurs, studying the map. "Do you think North Berwick will have open-sea vessels waiting around?" 

"North Berwick is fairly prosperous," Clive speaks up, following the conversation from the back row. "Lots of tourists. Day sailors. There should be enough of a selection there." He reconsiders with a shrug. "You know, current circumstances notwithstanding."

"And crossing the North Sea this late in the year is not something to fuck around with, anyway," Alex says with a sigh, reflecting on personal experience with the subject. "When Ryan and I were talking about Sweden, I was thinking we'd have to work our way south, then hug the coast around Belgium and Holland to avoid the most violent of the storms. Can we do something similar, moving north from here? Like," he leans in and traces his finger around the northeastern coast of Scotland, familiarizing himself with the geography, "would you want to head west towards Inverness? Or cut straight north?"

"Probably cut straight north," Antony says, "but it'll depend on the weather. We might have to hole up somewhere for a few days waiting for the right conditions."

Jess keeps her gaze on the woods as they drive by, but she listens in on the conversation, a little concerned but aware that she's probably too ignorant on the subject to be as concerned as she likely should be. "The last time I was on a boat was months ago, crossing from Dublin on the ferry," she murmurs. "It was also the first time I was ever on a boat."

"Oh it's fun, you'll love it," Clive tells her, his voice light. But damn, the plan is starting to make him nervous. He's not going to argue at this point, not with Alex already playing Devil's Advocate to Antony. And truly, he doesn't know that he'd want this decision in his lap anyway.

"I know none of you have any reason to trust me, but I'm a licensed mariner," Antony says over his shoulder as he drives, watching for the right property. "I've handled ships a lot bigger than what we'll dealing with and in much rougher waters. But the North Sea's not to be fucked with and I didn't come all this way to risk our lives, so we won't be taking any more chances than we have to."

"That works for me," Ryan says, meeting Alex's eyes for a moment. "And our chances are already better, just because we have enough people to make a decent crew."

"That's the truth," Alex agrees, and frowns at the darkening horizon.

"Can we look up there?" Clive sits forward and points out the window on Keira's side. "When we were coming down the hill, it looked like there's a decent-sized community there."

Antony would prefer to have something further away from neighbours - less likelihood of walkers - but he's fast learning, the larger the group gets, that he can't just run things the way he did with a crew. He's not anyone's leader now. "Sure," he says, making the turn to head inland a bit. 

They round a curve and the elevation continues to climb slightly, although it's nothing the van shouldn't be able to handle. Everyone's keeping a keen eye out, and suddenly Alex jerks back, sniffing. "Do you smell that?" he asks Ryan. "Do you smell smoke?"

"I see it," Ryan confirms, checking out the horizon with his rifle sights. Plumes of smoke, tinted indigo-black by the setting sun, billow into the air. "Guys, you got that?" he asks with a glance at Sam.

"It could be just a factory or something, yeah?" Clive suggests, daring to hope. Knowing it for an inane idea as soon as he says it.

Alex shakes his head. "Nah, that's wood smoke." He doesn't speak his other thought aloud, that at least the air lacks the distinctive acrid odor of burning flesh. 

"You want to check it out," Antony asks Alex. "Or give it a wide berth?"

"I vote no," Alex replies, and Ryan nods alongside him. "Can we avoid it?"

"If we stop now, we can keep an eye on it. Scout ahead in the morning or take another route," Antony says, slowing again, his gaze on the horizon.

"There's a pub marked on the map," Luke suggests. "Just ahead. It should have a couple rooms upstairs."

"And it should have some high-proof stock," Ryan says, down with the idea already.

"Jesus, finally," Clive jokes, scrubbing a hand over his eyes.

" _Not_ for drinking," Ryan clarifies, grinning a little.

Luke sighs. "It's probably been ransacked already," he points out, but as they pull up in front, the street clear of walkers, the windows unbroken, he thinks he might be wrong. And that they quite possibly have entered the Twilight Zone. "I'll check the car park in back," he volunteers, door open before anyone can protest. The last thing they want is to stay out on the street.

Alex twitches, aborting a reach for his lover. Suppressing the urge to run after him and stay at Luke's side through any and all potential threats. His gaze crosses with Ryan's, and his mate pins him with a sardonic look. "Don't fucking start with me, Ryan. I'm already pissed off at you," he grumbles in warning, and cranes his neck trying to get a better view of their surroundings.

Luke's back in a minute, still catching his breath as he jumps back into the van. "It's clear. There's four cars there but they're empty."

"No walkers?" Sam asks, still surprised they haven't seen even one.

Luke shakes his head. "They might be inside."

Antony pulls around back and parks. "Okay. Who wants clearing duty? There's no sense in everyone going in."

"I'll go," Clive answers, turning around in the cramped space to grab his sledgehammer from the cargo bin. 

"I'm with him," Ryan says, hopping out. He slips his blade from its sheath and goes to inspect the building's door.

"Keira, could I...?" Clive asks, even though he knows she might end up in his lap again when they try to switch seats.

"I'll go with them," Sam volunteers as well, nodding at Antony, "You stay here."

"I'm going too," Keira tells Clive, but she slides out of the van, bouncing on her heels, her knife already in hand. She moves behind Ryan. "Anything?"

Ryan shakes his head. "I'm not hearing anything from inside," he murmurs, ear to the door. He digs out his kit and gets to work picking the lock.

"I'll watch our backs," Alex says, carefully exiting the van and moving around until he has the widest view of the territory they passed through since they pulled off the main road.

"Got it," Ryan whispers, shoving his tools into his pocket and stepping back to meet Sam's eyes. "Ready?"

"Ready," Sam nods.

Checking for visual affirmation from the rest of his team, Ryan nods, and turns the doorknob as silently as he can. He steps inside and takes up position. His eyes widen and he quickly signals, _Two. Far corner._

Acknowledging, Clive circles around him in the narrow hallway and slips into the open room. The pub is fashionably rustic, although clearly rustic before it was fashionable: stained wood tables and scarred mismatched chairs litter the rough floor, some of them overturned and scattered amidst smashed glass and suspiciously lumpy piles of dirty fabric. Sledgehammer in hand, he stays close to the back wall as he makes a circuit of the room – and so he's ready when an innocent-looking mess of refuse resolves into a dead man and claws for him with an angry snarl. 

The alarm goes up – and Ryan figures their cover's already blown. He rushes in and stabs one of the corner roamers through his left eye, ducking a reach from his companion and taking him out on the rebound.

The boys seem to have the main floor under control so Keira branches off by herself, up the stairs to the second floor, her knife at the ready. It's getting darker by the second and she wishes she'd thought to grab a headlamp from the van before coming in, but the four rooms and two baths prove mercifully empty, their occupants' suitcases still open and unpacked. Fuck.

She runs into Sam on the staircase on her way back down. "It's all clear up here," she says. "There's some clothes and stuff though."

Ryan looks up when she says that, and takes care to wipe the blood off his knife as best he can before he gets to his feet.

"Kitchen's good," Clive says from a doorway behind the bar. "And it looks like there might be a little food left in the pantry, if there's a creative chef."

"I'll go tell them," Ryan says with a last glance at Sam. He checks out their exit carefully, just in case something circled in on them. But the others are still waiting in the van like nothing happened. "Come on," he calls softly, waving them in before circling to heave a box of supplies from the cargo hold.

Jess grabs up a few rucksacks and dares the pub, her eyes darting around and summing up the bloody scene inside. "Where's Clive?"

Surprised to hear a note of panic in her voice, Clive peeks his head out of the kitchen. "I'm right here, luv. We're all fine."

"We need to start blocking windows," Keira says, "and I don't care if we're only here for a night, we have to get rid of those," she nods at the bodies.

"We can put them out back or dump them in one of the back rooms," Sam says. "Any preferences?"

"I vote we put them outside," Clive replies, standing over one of the pub's former residents and wrinkling his nose. "If nothing else, their smell might cover up ours a bit." 

"Same," Ryan nods, and crouches down to grab one walker's shoulders while Clive likewise takes it by the ankles.

"Is there anything behind the bar we can use?" Alex asks, mostly thinking aloud. "Secret stash of ammo or anything?" He begins to sort through the scanty possessions and stacks of trash, setting aside a churchkey which doubles as a can opener.

Sam closes the heavy velvet curtains on the downstairs windows before setting out a couple of the flashlight lanterns they brought with them. That done, he heads upstairs to hang blankets like he did at the last place, breathing a sigh of relief as he covers the last window. There weren't a ton of extra blankets and with winter setting in, they might find themselves on the cold side, but hell, anything's better than being stuck out in the open.

"The bathroom faucet leaks," Jess reports, and begins laying out scavenged bits of food on the bar, hoping it will somehow jar her brain into culinary inspiration. "I guess that's not a bad thing for us. It means the water's still running. There must be a well... Boil it anyway, you think?"

Returning on the tail end of her question, Ryan nods. "Boil it, or ask Sam for one of his steri-pen things, if it's not safe enough to light the stove."

"It should be," Luke chimes in. "Everything out here is on propane tanks." He heads into the kitchen and checks. Sure enough, "There should be enough to boil the water and cook at least one meal," he says, coming back.

She nods and gets to work opening canned goods, looking up when Alex leans on the bar and asks her, "Did everyone claim rooms already?"

"Um." Jess stares at him for a moment, then shakes her head. "I– I don't know." Christ, he's _big_ , even taller than Clive, and she retreats a few steps in instinct.

Alex catches the movement, the meaning of it, and squarely meets her eyes. "I'm gay," he informs her quietly, wondering what it would take to heal her. Wondering if it's even possible. "But more important, I'm not a complete piece of shit."

Her cheeks flush hot with mortification and she nods again. But nonetheless waits until he heads upstairs before she marginally relaxes her shoulders once more. 

Antony detours into the bar area when he's finished checking out the whole place. It seems secure, or as secure as things get these days for an overnight stop, but he finds it hard to relax. Seeing no walkers at all this last bit? That's almost freakier than seeing a whole fucking parade of them. "Anything I can help with?" he asks Jess, making sure she sees him before he speaks.

"What was that about?" Luke asks Alex, having only caught the last bit.

Alex shakes his head and waits until they're both upstairs and safely out of earshot before he elaborates. "I don't know what we can do to convince her that we're not going to take her down and gang-rape her," he says softly. It's blunt and harsh, but he can't think of a reason to dance around it. "If she freaks out and panics every time one of us gets close, then we can't trust her to have our backs." He looks at Luke in question, hoping his lover will have an idea. Because psychological trauma is really not his area of expertise.

"I don't think there _is_ anything we can do," Luke says, every bit as softly. "Other than give her time and let her see by our actions she can trust us. She's already come a long way, I think. She's hugging Keira, she's offering massages. Those are big jumps to make in a few days when that first day she wouldn't even sit down with us."

Considering his words, Alex nods. "Yeah, you're right." He brushes his lips over Luke's and smiles. "Things go fast out here. So much can happen in just a few days."

Luke beams at Alex. "Like us?" He wraps his arms around Alex's neck and kisses him again. "I guess we have to eat but we should get the rooms sorted."

"Exactly like us," Alex agrees, holding him close for one last kiss before letting him go so they can check out the first bedroom. "Do you figure the pub's owners lived here?" He makes certain that the windows are as light-tight as they can get them for the moment, then turns to the bureau. An ornate but tarnished silver tray sits atop it, crowded with a small collection of glass perfume bottles. Thick with dust now, it's obvious the array was once loved, each piece placed and angled just so. He turns away with a sigh and shines his light beneath the bed.

"I don't think so. They've only got four rooms," Luke says, "but then there's all these knick-knacks, so I don't know." He goes through the small closet. "I don't think any of this is going to fit the girls and the guy was obviously much shorter than us."

Controlling a wince, Alex sits down on the dusty rug. He pushes through the accumulated dust bunnies and slides a black box out for closer inspection. The key is still in the lock. "Fireproof safe, I think," he murmurs, sifting through the contents. "Some cash. Mostly birth certificates, a marriage certificate... Love letters. Oh, christ." Tears sting the backs of his eyes and he drops his head into his hands, despair sneaking in and gaining an edge.

"Hey." Luke drops what he's doing and sits down behind Alex, wrapping his arms and legs around him and hugging him close. "It's okay. We're good. We're going to make it. And there's lots of others out there like us."

Alex reaches back and holds his lover tight, completing the embrace. It's not like Luke hasn't seen him cry before, but at least he tries to stay quiet about it. He clings like a lifeline to Luke's solid presence – warm and secure and accepting. "I think they're gone," he whispers after a few moments of silence. "My family back home. I don't actually believe they made it. I feel so fucking guilty about that." 

"I know," Luke says, hugging even tighter. "It's hard not to feel guilty for surviving, but you know our loved ones would want us safe. They wouldn't want us risking our lives to try and find them when we don't even know if they're still alive."

Alex winces at that, more tears tracking down his face. He knows it's the truth. But accepting that truth is not an easy thing. Another long moment passes, and then he nods. "Yeah. Okay. I'll– I'll stay on the island. I'll help make it work there." Rather than focusing on another destination.

"Thank you," Luke whispers, a wave of relief washing over him. "I meant what I said - that I'd go with you - but I'd really like to stop running for a while. I'm so fucking tired of being scared," he confesses.

It's funny, Alex really hadn't thought of it that way, from Luke's perspective. His lover's quiet words make a lot of sense, though, settling over him with the weight of truth. "Lie down with me?" he asks in a murmur. "I know dinner'll be ready soon, but... I need to hold you, too."

Luke nods and shifts so they can both stand up, moving to the already made bed where he curls in tight against Alex's chest.

* * *

The next morning at dawn it's as quiet outside the pub as it was when they arrived last night. Antony uses the binoculars to check out the road and back along the coast in both directions and... nothing. Not a single solitary moving thing in sight. And although it should be relaxing and he should be relieved, it's actually pretty fucking creepy.

Leaning against the doorjamb, Ryan watches Antony, always wary of the potential for something truly nasty to sneak up from behind. He shares the opinion that the resounding silence is _too_ still. Even if there aren't people, even if there aren't roamers, there should at least be crows. Buzzards. _Something_.

Antony looks over his shoulder at Ryan. "I have to admit," he says finally, shaking his head. "This is freaking me out. I can't decide whether to be happy we seem to have hit a lull or scared shitless they're all over the next fucking ridge."

Ryan nods in rueful agreement, and steps even with him. "Something I've wondered about is what the roamers do when they run out of food. Out of us. After a while, do you think they just... slip into a kind of hibernation?" He continues in a whisper, "I mean, _something_ animates them. They don't die on their own but they can't just keep moving forever without some sort of fuel. I think they must go into a sort of suspended state, while they wait for us to stumble on them."

"Maybe they turn on each other," Antony suggests, but it's clear he's only hoping. He blows out a breath. "You don't think they die eventually? Actually _die_ , I mean?"

For a long moment, Ryan considers. Reaching down into himself for his gut feeling, assessing whether it's swayed at all by the hard science he knows. "No. I don't think they do," he says finally. "They deteriorate physically, yes; we've seen that for ourselves. But here's what I've been thinking," he says, looking at Antony with a tiny edge of hope in his voice. "While they're deteriorating and not consuming nourishment, maybe in a suspended state or maybe not, what if they're more vulnerable to attack?"

Antony looks at Ryan. "What if they are? What are you proposing? That we give it a couple of months and come back and take them out?"

"No... Nah, I don't have a plan yet. Per se," Ryan explains. "I'm just, I'm trying to figure them out. Their physiology or whatever you'd call it for a friggin' walker. If we can determine what weaknesses they have, it might help us fight them better in future. Worse for them, better for us."

Antony nods. "Obviously fire works, but using it in any major way would mean destroying anything around them as well."

"And calling a lot of attention too, yeah." Scanning the horizon again - and it's still empty, what the fuck? - Ryan adds, "Maybe... It's just something to think on. As the days pass and we move further out away from the cities, the odds get better that we'll find more of them sleeping. If we can sneak up on them... I'm working on it, anyway." He flashes Antony a quicksilver grin.

"Good. You keep doing that," Antony says, grinning back. "We'll pass by a base or two. If there's specific things you think we can use, we can stop and see what's still there."

Clive peers out the open door, nervous as a matter of course, but relaxing a little when he sees the two men alert but not tense. "Hey," he calls, just above a whisper. "Jess made breakfast." 

Antony nods. "We'd better eat and get on our way," he says, giving the horizon one last look. Fuck.

In the kitchen, Ryan does one last thorough check of all the cupboards. He knows that if he doesn't, the idea will nag at him that he missed something, and he can't deal with the subsequent lost sleep. On the subject of lost sleep, however, he watches from the corner of his eye as Jess slips out of the room. Immediately he quietly drops what he's doing and steps behind Sam, slipping his arms around him. "Hey," he whispers, and nibbles at a patch of bare shoulder exposed by Sam's ratty t-shirt. 

"Hey," Sam says with a smile, finishing reloading his gun. He's already done a quick count of their remaining ammunition and he's hoping they'll hit either a base or police station before they go too much further. "You were up early this morning."

"Yeah, I've been rechecking all the rooms to make sure we're not leaving anything important behind," Ryan replies. "Did you miss me?"

"Yes." Sam doesn't even tease. Simply turns his head so he can kiss Ryan, letting him feel how much.

Ryan moans softly at the unexpected intensity of the kiss. Cautiously, he takes Sam's gun from his hand and gently lays it on the counter. That done, he completes the embrace, wrapping himself around his lover to get lost for a few moments. 

Antony sticks his head in, intending to tell them to come on, they're leaving, but instead he just moves the hell back out. "You wouldn't know it's the end of the fucking world," he tells Clive, chuckling and shaking his head as he passes the man, figuring they'll sort it out for themselves, especially once they hear the van start up.

Even Jess can't contain her smile when she climbs into the backseat. Clive looks at her in question, automatically seating himself in the middle now, and she shrugs a little. Dimpling as she whispers, "It's sweet. And they look really hot together."

Luke sighs and playfully rolls his eyes at Alex but deep down he's thrilled no one in their group seems to be bothered by the idea - or even the sight - of two men together. "Do you want me to get them?" he asks Antony. 

"Nope." Antony grins, starting the van up. He waits a beat and revs the engine a little. Just enough to carry into the pub.

With his fingers tangled in his lover's hair, Ryan is busy sucking on Sam's tongue. The noise of the engine barely penetrates his reverie, but when it does-- "Wait, is that us?" he asks. And he needs the instant of orientation before he realizes that hell yeah it's either their group or it's serious trouble. "Shit." He lets go of Sam and gathers up his pack.

Sam grabs his gun and his bag as well and follows Ryan outside. "You fucker," he tells Antony, shaking his head at his mate as he settles back in the van. "Why didn't you say we were going?"

Antony grins, pulling out of the pub parking lot. "I would have but you two were rather occupied."

Sliding the van door shut, Ryan sits back and tries to find something - anything - outside the window to stare at. He's pretty sure his lips are still tingling.

Smothering a chuckle, Clive takes mercy on him. "Remind me what we're looking for," he says, pitching his voice to carry all the way to the front seat. "Another place like this one? Something situated differently? I just work better when I have a plan spelled out in my head." 

"Luke?" Antony says, glancing in the rearview mirror. "He knows this area better than any of us."

"What?" Luke blinks, caught musing on how gorgeous Alex is. "Um. Most of the houses along the coast here are off the grid. There's been a whole project going the last few years to get them completely self-sufficient and even producing power for the grid for others. We just need to look for solar panels, rain barrels, gardens, wind turbines... that sort of thing. We need a place we can stop and fortify for a few days so Ryan can take Alex's stitches out."

Clive nods acknowledgment of the plan, thankful that, so far anyway, the group seems patient with his questions. He figures he probably doesn't ask for details all the time, it just feels that way to him.

* * *

The sun is directly above when Jess snaps awake, and she's startled to realize that she was dozing. Glancing up at Clive, she nudges him with a quick elbow to the ribs. "Hey," she whispers when he opens his eyes. "Where are we?"

Clive rubs the back of his hand over his face and tries to ground his thoughts from wherever they'd wandered to. "At a guess?" he murmurs, "Somewhere along the eastern coast of Scotland."

Overhearing their quiet conversation, Alex grins a little. "Hey Antony, are we there yet?" At least he refrains from kicking the back of his seat.

"Not quite," Antony says, completely missing the joke. "But I am seeing wind turbines," he adds, pointing them out up ahead.

Luke leans over the front seat. "We're almost at Eyemouth. I don't think we should go into town, at least not to stay, but we should be able to find something overlooking. And something older, not modern."

Sam looks at him. "What's wrong with modern?"

"Too many windows," Luke explains. "Older homes are easier to board up. It doesn't have to be ancient, just not really modern."

"High ground would be nice, too," Ryan adds, looking out the window. He glances at Luke. "Are you thinking we should avoid town because of potential walker build-up? Or is there another reason?"

"Walkers," Luke says. "The place only had a population of three thousand, but I still wouldn't want to take any chances. If we get something overlooking, we'll have a better chance of seeing anything coming."

"How are we doing on petrol?" Clive asks, trying to direct his question frontwards from around Alex's head. The dude must be a nightmare for normal people to sit behind in theatres.

"We've got a quarter tank and one can left," Antony says. "So even if we don't want to go into town proper to stay, we'll likely have to make a trip in."

"I'll go," Ryan volunteers, squinting at a flash of stone through a screen of trees. He gives a low whistle. "That house is a lot more luxurious than I was expecting to see out this way. Should we try it?"

"It looks like one of those manor houses from a BBC movie. Do they have manor houses in Scotland?" Jess grimaces. "Sorry, I guess that's a really dumb question." 

"I see catchment barrels and solar panels," Luke says, craning his neck to get a better look.

"Sure. Let's check it out," Keira says, using the excuse to lean over Clive. "And I'll go with Ryan."

Clive's first instinct is to shrink himself into his seat, to give her as much room as possible. The realization hits him, though, that his instincts _suck_ right now, and he reaches an arm around Keira. For an instant he moves into the embrace, wanting to pull her into his lap for more. _Well, fuck_. Perhaps he should have stuck with retreat after all.

A small shiver runs through Keira at Clive's touch. He's just so big and strong and god... it's just been way too long since someone _really_ touched her. Which was fine when it was just her and Sam and Antony and no one was getting any but now... Damn.

Antony slowly heads up the driveway, ready to back out in a second if they need to, but they've seen only a handful of zombies today, most of them on their own and in no state to do anyone any harm and their luck doesn't appear to be changing now.

Alex sights through his rifle with a frown. "Jesus, I'm almost wishing we'd see some," he mutters. "Because this just feels too weird."

Raising an eyebrow, Ryan regards him seriously. "Are you getting a gut feeling that this is the wrong place?" Soldiers are historically a suspicious and paranoid lot, sure, but he's had enough experience to rationally consider irrational hunches.

"Nah," Alex answers after a moment, "not that. It just feels too easy, that's all. But not like there's an ambush ahead."

Antony brings the car to a stop beside the house. So far, so good. "Perimeter search first," he says. "Then inside. Someone should stay with the van."

"Alex will stay," Ryan answers immediately, and flat-out ignores the glare his mate shoots him. 

"I'll stay with him," Jess offers, sliding open the van door and hopping lightly to her feet. She checks - again - her 9mm and hitches the safety off before taking up scouting position at the rear of the vehicle. 

"You and Clive go that way," Antony says, pointing at Keira and gesturing them around the far side of the house. "Luke and Ryan will meet you around back. Don't shoot them. Sam and I'll take the outbuilding."

Clive's mouth kicks up in a grin at that matter-of-fact _Don't shoot them_. He glances back over his shoulder once to check that Keira's with him, then paces forward, choosing his steps carefully. He keeps his sledgehammer at the ready.

Keira's got her gun tucked into her waistband but otherwise she's got her hunting knife in hand, more than happy to let Clive take the lead. Especially since the view from back here is definitely not anything to complain about. Which is a really fucked up thought given what they're doing and she mentally kicks herself, struggling to bring her brain back online.

They can hear the dead long before they see them. His eyes widening, Clive signals to Keira, then points to the spot in the woods. As silently as possible he slips between the trees to find the source of the godawful moaning, raising his hammer to his shoulder. He swings it down once, and then again, swiftly stepping back from the mess to meet whatever comes next.

Keira's ready to take on whatever comes next but that's it, there's only the two, the air suddenly as still and quiet as it had been when they got out of the car. "I don't like the thought of them being even this close to the house," she says softly. "Not unless we can get everything boarded up really well."

Clive narrows his eyes at the thick stand of trees. "Maybe there are some traps around. A few squirrels, something like that. Maybe something is holding their attention here. If we can figure out what that is, we might persuade them to wander off."

"You don't think they're just wandering through the countryside?" she asks. "Up from the town or down from the bigger cities?"

He shrugs a little. "Yeah," he says softly, "probably that too." Inching his way around a back corner, he keeps his back flat to the brick. Freezes when he spies a flicker of movement in the trees down the long back wall. But the flicker suddenly stills as well, so he ventures a signal. He whistles, doing his best impression of a robin's song.

Crouched in the shadows of a deteriorated stone outbuilding, Ryan hears the incongruous twitter. He covers his mouth to hold the laughter in, guessing the source. Looks up to give Luke a grin, and responds with a valiant attempt at a ringneck's call. It doesn't sound much like the real thing, but he's guessing Clive won't know the difference.

Letting out a breath, Clive edges further around the back of the house.

Keira rolls her eyes at the boys and follows Clive closely but not too closely, hoping they can finish up with the outside soon. If the inside's packed, they'll have done this for nothing.

"Hey," Alex calls out softly, looking Keira and Clive over and then looking past them. "Antony gave the all-clear. Where's Luke?" He damn near had a spasm when they split up in the first place, and he had to clamp down on his instincts to dash after Luke and stay by his side. 

He sadly wonders if that's a bad sign.

"He's with Ryan," Keira volunteers. "They're still checking out the back thicket."

Alex nods and leans against the wall to wait. He's not going to confuse the issue by tromping into the woods and giving his mates a target. But he's also not going anywhere until his lover returns.

Swiping the back of his head over his forehead, Clive wonders whether he bears any errant vile gore splashes. Glancing at Keira, he suggests, "Let's go check what the situation is inside."

Keira nods and takes the lead this way, knocking at the front door several times, her ear pressed to it for any movement inside. "I don't hear anything," she tells Clive, but that's no guarantee of anything.

He listens too, but he can't detect any telltale sounds either. Reaching out he quietly tries the doorknob, and is surprised when it opens with a little _scree_ of weathered wood scraping the doorjamb. Another long silent pause of caution, then he slips inside. The rooms are dark, partly due to the heavy brocade drapes covering the windows, but also because of the way various pieces of furniture have been shoved up to cover the openings. Clive checks back over his shoulder and moves to Keira's side to whisper, "This is weird. They barricaded themselves inside but then left the front door unlocked?"

"I hope they didn't kill themselves," Keira whispers back. They've come across a few of those. "Should we wait for the guys?"

Clive shakes his head. "I'm going to look around on this first level. We should stay together until we're sure it's clear." He rests the hammer against his shoulder and listens at a door before quietly pushing it open.

Keira's more than happy to go along with that. "At least they've already done the barricading for us," she points out, still whispering.

He grins at her, a quick flash of white teeth and laughing eyes. "Very true." It's difficult to make out much more than the general shape of items in the dim light. After listening intently for a few more seconds, he risks pulling out a small torch and switching the light on. The kitchen is filthy, no big surprise there, with rotted scraps of produce in odd corners and cupboard doors standing askew after a ransacking. "I guess that table was too heavy to move," he murmurs, shining the light through a passway into a grand dining room. "I'd say we could sit down and have a meal together like civilized people, except none of the chairs are left." 

Keira sighs. "Maybe we should look elsewhere," she suggests. "The last place was cleaner than this and everything was working. I don't know if Ryan's going to want to open Alex up in here."

"The last place was fantastic," Clive agrees. "I'd be surprised to find another one as good." He finishes his patrol of the dining room and larder, then points at the base of a regally curved staircase. "Ready to go up if you are."

"I'm as ready as I'll ever be," Keira says, snorting softly as she starts up the stairs, her heart beating wildly.

Clive looks at her, more words on his lips... But then he reconsiders. This really isn't a good time, particularly since there might not _ever_ be a good time. They climb the staircase as quietly as possible and he flanks her when they reach the wide landing, signalling that he's heading down the long hallway to their right. The flashlight is off again and will stay that way until he feels it's safe to shine it. Of course that means they're working with only the barest streaks of sunlight through the boarded-up windows. He keeps an eye on Keira, listening hard for the slightest indication that they're not alone.

Keira's foot hits something on the floor and she almost trips headlong into Clive. "Fuck," she blurts out but still manages to keep it a whisper, quickly regaining her balance. "Sorry."

"No," he whispers, keeping his arm around her until there can be no doubt that she's steady again, and then some. The offending object is some kind of toy, and as he squints down trying to make out the details, he's grateful as hell that it's not one of the obnoxious ones that makes noise. Tickle-Me-Zombie or some stupid thing. Three more doors on this wing, and he and Keira carefully work their way down the hall, checking every one. In the last bedroom he opens the door to reveal two bodies lying on a bed by what was formerly a window. He pushes Keira to the side and steps closer to assure himself that they're corpses, nothing more.

Keira stands in the doorway, watching him, her relief at finding nothing but dead people tempered by her depression at finding nothing but dead people. "How do you think they died?" she asks. It looks like it was peaceful and she wonders if they made it that way.

"Self-inflicted," Clive hazards. "Or maybe the one who left the front door unlocked tried for a mercy-killing before they ran off." God, the stench of decomposing flesh is horrific, all the more so now for its familiarity. He switches on his torch to check under the bed, in the closet, then nods to Keira. "We're good here."

She closes the room up behind them, digging in her pocket for a piece of chalk. The door gets a big x, the white of the chalk visible even in the dim light of the upper floor. "Are we clear?"

"There's at least one room down that way, maybe more," he murmurs, looking across the landing at the hall opposite. Already beginning to cautiously investigate. In only minutes, he closes the last door with a sigh of relief, slipping aside so that Keira can mark it as well. "No humans, no biters. I think possibly a few mice, though. Which suggests the threat level to us is low." There he goes with the silver lining thing again. Clive tries to recall if he always had that habit, or if it's only become pronounced since the world ended.

"So we've got enough rooms for everyone, the kitchen's a mess but useable, especially if we clean it up, there's two main floor washrooms using the water from the rain barrels and everything's already barricaded for us," Keira says then nods. "Good. Let's give everyone the all-clear."

Clive nods, a smile spreading across his face as he looks at her. "I love your mind," he murmurs. "Your thoughts are so organized." He huffs a laugh and explains, "It's sexier than it sounds, I promise."

"I should hope so," Keira teases then impulsively pushes up on her toes, planting her lips against his in a quick kiss before she draws back and runs down the hall and the stairs. Not even waiting to see how he reacts.

Her determined escape is nearly as surprising as the kiss itself. Clive stares into the dimness, boggling over the sudden absence of Keira. He only notices that he's smiling again once he becomes aware of how his lips are tingling.

Outside the house, Ryan stands guard near the front door, a 9 mm in his left hand and a blade in his right. Everything has been resoundingly quiet, and he reminds himself he should probably take that for a good sign.

"We found a jerry can of petrol in the barn," Sam says, joining Ryan at the front door. "Twenty litres but who the hell knows how long it's been sitting there."

"Does that stuff really expire?" Ryan asks his lover with a teasing smile. "I guess it could have crap in it. But, unless it's returning to its natural state and becoming a dinosaur once more..."

The moment Luke came into view, Alex felt his shoulders relax, and he stood up straighter. Now he has to work to keep a soppy look off his face.

"Actually it does," Sam says with a grin. "It lasts longer if it has a fuel stabilizer in it, but anywhere from 3-8 months, maybe a year if we're lucky, after that it'll start doing damage to the engine and it won't last as long."

Luke beams at Alex. "You look happy to see me," he says, leaning in for a kiss.

"Yeah, it's true. I am," Alex agrees, and steals another kiss. He figures he doesn't need to burden Luke with the knowledge that he was already starting to panic.

Luke beams even more. "Everything looks good out here. I think Clive took care of a couple walkers on their side but we were clear."

"You're a handy guy to have in an emergency," Ryan tells Sam, his grin widening. Of all the times -- but still, the slip of joy persists.

"I used to read like crazy," Sam says. "But especially sci fi, apocalyptic stuff, thrillers, survival manuals..." He blows out a breath and gives a soft laugh. "Who knew it would actually come in handy?"

Ryan shakes his head and holsters his gun, then brushes his fingers over the back of Sam's hand. "That's a lot more useful than my correspondence course in Japanese Floral Arranging, definitely."

Sam laughs, about to add something when the door opens behind them and Keira announces, "We're all clear in here."

Antony nods, already loading up with their gear from the back of the van. "What kind of condition is the place in?"

Keira rattles off the same assessment she gave Clive, her cheeks pink as she glances over her shoulder, checking to see if he's followed her.

"I recommend avoiding the second-floor bedroom at the end of the east wing," Clive murmurs, although it takes him a second to refocus his attention from her to Antony. "It's occupied. Nothing is moving in there, though. I checked the exit wounds."

Coming up on the group in time to hear the last, Jess winces.

"Brilliant." Ryan nods and looks to Alex. "Are you ready for this?"

With a frown, Alex mutters, "Fuck, no."

"Perfect. I'll go set up so we can get those old stitches out as soon as possible," Ryan says. "If someone could spare a minute to boil some water, I'd appreciate it," he adds, ducking into the dim house. 

"I'll do it," Luke volunteers. Of course. He gives Alex a quick kiss on the mouth. "Go on, I'll be right there." He takes a couple things inside and heads for the kitchen, making a face at its state. He checks the gas, lights the burner and puts the water on before finding some black plastic bin bags under the sink to start putting garbage into.

One by one they file in after him. Jess pauses a long moment to let her eyes adjust, then snags a couple bags from Luke and gets to work. "You said there are some bodies upstairs?" she asks Clive quietly. 

"Yeah. C'mon, we can clean the other bedrooms," he suggests, and lets his hand rest lightly on her shoulder for an instant. Of course, he regrets it when she flinches away.

Jess jogs up the stairs and turns - what was it Clive said? the east wing had the occupied bedroom? "Fifty-fifty," she mutters, because the sky has been grey for days, and she really doesn't know which direction the house faces. The first door she opens looks benign, though. She feels a little guilty for flinching over the brotherly touch, because damn, if she can't trust Clive at this point, then who can she trust? "Um," she clears her throat, trying to diffuse the tension in the air when he enters the room and starts clearing half-filled suitcases off the bed. 

"What can I do?" Keira asks Ryan, trailing after him and Alex. She knows Luke'll take most of the responsibility but she wouldn't mind learning some stuff and she's got a high tolerance for blood.

Sam and Antony take their time double-checking the barricades on the first floor, finding a hutch to move closer to the front door for nighttime and setting out candles and lantern lights. Sam takes a couple in to Ryan, making sure he's got as much light as needs for Alex.

"Thanks," Ryan murmurs, looking up at his lover with a quick smile before turning to Keira. "Can you make him," he nods towards Alex, "scrub the outside of his wound? And Luke, I need you to boil the scissors and needles, please."

"I'm right here, Jesus," Alex mutters, lying back on a dusty couch and hooking his knees over one end. "I'm a big boy now. I can wash myself."

"Yeah, and Keira's going to make scrupulously certain that you don't miss any important bits," Ryan replies, shooting her a wink. "Just relax and enjoy being fawned over."

Keira grabs a couple clean towels from the linen closet upstairs. At least she thinks they're clean. They look it, they were still folded and they pass the sniff test. She also grabs a bin bag from the kitchen and motions for Alex to stand up while she spreads it out beneath him, tops it with one towel and hands him another plus a face cloth to use with an unopened bottle of water they brought with them. "You can't be bleeding all over our new couch," she teases, grinning at him. 

"Right," Alex agrees, and gets to his feet with an uncharacteristic bashfulness. He unzips his fly - Ryan is _not_ getting to cut up his clothing again - and pushes his jeans down to the floor. Then he gestures towards the black military briefs he's wearing. "Is it going to bother you if I lose these, too?"

The timing perfect, Jess stops halfway down the stairs upon overhearing him. Bracing her elbow on the wooden banister, she props her chin on her fist and waits curiously to hear what the answer will be.

Keira freezes for a split second, not entirely sure she's heard him right, but then she's nodding, "Yeah, of course. Go for it," she grins, even as her cheeks pinken up again. Determined to be cool and not react.

"Are you sure you shouldn't be asking for Luke's permission?" Ryan murmurs from the corner of his mouth. His eyes dance and he tears open a sterile antibacterial wipe. "Cold."

"Hey, fuck!" Alex yelps at the touch of the gauze, and lies back again. "Warn a guy."

"I did." Okay, so maybe Ryan's grin is just a touch too gleeful.

Keira giggles and she can't help it, she just has to look. A quick glance and her eyes widen and she looks away again. Holy shit. She doesn't know whether to envy or be fearful for Luke. "What else can I do?" she asks Ryan as Luke brings the sterilized scissors and needles back in. Grateful he didn't catch her eyeing his boyfriend. At least she doesn't think he did.

"Be ready with clean towels to catch any blood. But don't touch the incision," Ryan answers. He takes the scissors from Luke with a quick thanks and gets to work snipping away. 

Alex grits his teeth when Ryan deliberately peels his flesh back to reach the muscle. "Do we still have whiskey?" he grates, already holding out his hand.

"I'll get it," Luke says quickly, running back into the kitchen. He rummages through the food they brought with him and finds the bottle. "Here." He helps Alex take a good swig, Keira moving down to mop at the blood coming from the wound.

"You're doing great. Almost done with this part," Ryan says, and says to Keira, "Hand me the tweezers, please."

Another large gulp of whiskey goes down, but then Alex waves off the bottle. "You," he tells Luke, fisting a hand in his lover's shirt. "Come down here and kiss me."

Luke blinks hard but does as he's told, only a tiny part of him worrying about whether Ryan or Keira are bothered by this. He kisses Alex, hard on the mouth, sliding his hand up under his shirt and over his belly.

Alex pours himself into the kiss, drowning in his lover and chasing every spark of comfort he can find.

"Hey. Don't forget your dick's in my face," Ryan objects mildly, bent over Alex's thigh as he is. But the fact is that Alex's cock hasn't done more than twitch, which he figures is a solid indication of just how much pain he's experiencing.

Keira smothers a laugh, toweling away the blood the best she can without getting in Ryan's way.

Antony sticks his head in the room, eyes widening a fraction at the sight. What the... Never mind. He really doesn't want to know. "Back that way," he tells Sam as the other man comes up behind him. "They've got enough going on in there."

Wandering in once he's done scavenging under sinks, Clive leans back against the newel post and glances over at Jess before taking in the sights before him. "Is it orgy season already?" he murmurs, because what with Alex and Ryan and Keira and Luke... "No one tells me anything."

Jess slaps a hand over her mouth to smother her laughter. "We'll make sure you get on the VIP list for next season," she assures him. 

"Last couple new stitches," Ryan says, threading his needle again. "Hold still."

Luke glances down at what Ryan's doing and quickly kisses Alex again. Fuck.

"How long do we need to stay here?" Keira asks softly while Ryan works.

"I'd say three days, at least," Ryan answers, but after checking to see that Alex is totally engrossed in his lover, he meets Keira's eyes and mouths, _Two_. Because he's certain that, whatever he says, Alex will try to undercut him by insisting he's well enough to travel when he's not. "And only if he takes his meds like a good boy. Will you unroll that gauze for me, please?"

Keira unrolls a fresh roll of gauze and hands it over. "Can you teach me some more of this?" she asks. "I've taken standard first aid but I need to know how to do more."

"Sure, that's a good idea," Ryan agrees, wrapping up the wound and then checking his patient's pulses to be sure the bandage isn't too tight. "I'm sure we'll have lots of learning opportunities as we go."

"Not me," Alex mutters. "No more experimenting on me." Even once the kiss broke he clung tightly to Luke's hand, and he lets go now only to lever himself to his feet and dress once more.

"I can help with herbal stuff," Jess offers, then freezes when several people at once turn to look at her. "I just mean, um, herbal remedies. Naturopathic stuff. If, you know. If you ever don't have the medicine you need, I might be able to help with an alternative."

Ryan blinks, considering the scenario. "Awesome."

"Are there some standard things for naturopathic medicine?" Antony asks, having come back into the room now that everyone's dressed and stopped making out.

Luke helps Alex with his jeans and then guides him to sit down once more, the towels and bin bag moved. "Are you hungry? Can you eat something?"

Alex waves away the question. "I'm fine," he insists quietly, "I'll eat when you eat." He doesn't let Luke go just yet, though, but wraps his arms around his lover's waist and simply settles into a restorative embrace.

Jess isn't quite certain what Antony is asking, but she takes a stab anyway. "Yeah, sure. In this climate zone?" She glances towards the boarded-up and blocked windows. "We should be able to find thistle, ragwort, primrose... Valerian and basil for pain. Garlic to fight infection. Things like that."

"Can we transfer any of that stuff?" Antony asks. "And can we keep it contained if we do?"

She nods. "I've got some things already, just dried and in little baggies. From before," she explains. "It's really light. And whenever I find more, I've been trying to dry it properly, but that's hard to do on the move."

"Will they grow from seed or do we need plants?" Antony asks, sitting on the arm of a huge stuffed chair. "We can raid a couple more pharmacies before we go across but eventually that stuff'll run out."

"If you see heritage seeds for _anything_ , grab it. Please," Jess adds. "Once we settle somewhere I can start growing things from sprouts." She's a little proud of herself: she's standing here, having a normal conversational-type discussion with Hitman Antony (she imagines he'd be good at that sort of thing, anyway), and she's _still standing here_.

"Okay." Antony nods. "Once we're on the island, we'll be limited to what's there, what we've brought with us and whatever we can grow or make until we get an idea of whether things have cleared up on the mainland." He rubs a hand over the back of the neck. "We should probably see if we can find a back-to-basics or living off the grid book at a library or bookshop."

"I miss bookshops. Especially used ones," Clive murmurs, then volunteers, "I'll keep a good eye out."


End file.
